


My Queen

by magnoliatattoo (theladyinthecape)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Spoilers for GOT S7 Episode 6, scene continuation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 13:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11829441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyinthecape/pseuds/magnoliatattoo
Summary: How I would have ended the Jon/ Dany scene in GOT 7x6.SPOILERS FOR SEASON 7 EPISODE 6 "Beyond the Wall"





	My Queen

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. It's just porn.

“I hope I deserve it.” She struggled to retain her composure, the swearing of fealty from the injured king shaking her to the core, her confidence and composure all but erased in the cold, cruel North.

“You do.” His thumb twitched slightly, rubbing a soft circle against the back of her hand. 

The intensity of the moment began to overtake her, and she tried to pull back, tugging her hand out of his warm, strong grasp. His hand tightened around hers, not allowing her to slip away, and Dany felt him tug at her, the sensation flowing from her palm to her heart to her belly. Her breath quickened and her eyes grew wide as she regarded Jon; his deep, dark, sorrowful eyes not moving, not blinking, not breaking the connection between them. It was all they had, this moment, here on this ship, every thought and feeling and word that had passed between them came to bear in this cold, dim space. Her dead child, his injured body - all they had lost laid between them, yet he wouldn’t let go, and every second she stayed here, touching him, feeling the heat building, the fire engulfing, was another second she was losing her heart to the King in the North.

Jon began to sit up, the taut muscles of his abdomen bulging under his cold skin, the furs and blankets falling to his lap, his scars dark marks against the pale flesh of his chest. He rose to sitting, never loosening his grip on her hand, until his face was inches from hers, his dark eyes peering into the reach of her soul. Dany grew warm, uncomfortably warm, a red ember flickering deep in her pupil, finding its mirrored image in the dark black pools of Jon’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could make a sound Jon’s free hand cupped her neck, his thumb ghosting over her lower lip, pulling her into him. He placed a timid, chaste kiss to her lips - his kiss was hot and dry and soft and it reminded Dany of home, of summer.

“Stay, my queen,” he urged. It was a prayer and a command, and he claimed her lips once more before she could answer. Dany yielded to his request, moving her lips against his, her tongue darting out to taste him, her carnal curiosity getting the better of her. His mouth widened with her response, and his hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers twining in her long, silken hair. His tongue plunged into her mouth as she gasped, and he moved to push against her, the heat rising between them, and a thin sheen of sweat causing his pale skin to glow in the low light of the cabin.

Dany pushed back, breaking the embrace, and Jon withdrew. His brow furrowed under the black curls falling across his forehead, confusion and hurt beginning to appear in his face. 

“Lie back,” she instructed, and as she rose she unpinned her dragon brooch. Jon relaxed back against the headboard, watching her, and Dany was mesmerized by the way his eyes glowed as she began to remove her dress. Slowly, she unbuttoned the bodice of her overdress, allowing the heavy wool fabric to fall from her shoulders. Underneath was a thinner grey cotton chemise, fitted against her small waist, tucked into a long skirt of pleated silk. 

Jon watched as she undressed, the numbing cold melting away from his body as his heart quickened. She was beautiful; small and fierce with soft, pale skin and large, wide-set eyes. Her lips were full and red from his kiss and she was so warm - she warmed him in every way, her touch fanning flames he had not felt in years, so cold and dark were those embers that he thought that part of him had died with Ygritte.

He was weary of the cold, and he wanted to feel her fire. 

She reached back to untie her skirts and her chemise stretched against her chest, her nipples hard and protruding against the thin fabric. His cock swelled, he felt himself harden under the furs and he grew hot, too hot to remain under the thick bearskin. He threw off the furs and felt himself swell more as the Dragon Queen gasped at his boldness. 

“This will have to do until I am able to bend the knee.” His voice was low and raspy, the growl of the wolf, and Dany felt her core flutter and drip as she regarded his prone form. He was hard, all muscle and scarred skin, his cock full and long, bobbing to the side as it grew to rest on his lower belly. Wordlessly, she hiked her chemise and slipped her smallclothes down her shapely legs, allowing him a flash of her curvy white hip. She climbed to straddle his thighs, and when she settled she removed her chemise, dropping it to the floor. She felt his cool skin underneath her; ice melting and fire smoldering.

“Allow me?” she asked, her voice low and small, as though she were a maiden. Dany felt that she was - it all felt so new, so different with Jon Snow. Never before had the smallest look sent her soaring as it did when she was close to Jon. No touch had burned her skin like his touch had. She leaned forward, placing a kiss to the scar above his heart, and Jon drew a long, hard breath as her lips touched him. She burned a path down his stomach, kissing each scar, slowly caressing each ridge and plane of his chest with her small, hot hands. As she lowered further, reaching the scars around his navel, her tongue darted out, licking along the bumpy, tender seam of a scar. Jon shook involuntarily, his hips thrusting up and abruptly shifting Dany forward. He took her face in his large, strong hands, pulling her to him, plundering his mouth with her tongue. He wanted to devour her, the Wolf King feeding upon his prey, and he was lost, lost in the feel and smell and taste of her, lost in her heat, until Dany slipped one hand lower, between them, and grasped his cock.

His eyes flew wide and he released her mouth with a groan as she squeezed him, hard, and began to stroke, slowly, painstakingly slowly, guiding him to her core. He was hard, so hard, with velvety soft skin that rippled and stretched over his length. Dany’s mouth watered, she wanted to taste him, to drink him down, but her need was too great, she needed to feel him inside her, to stoke her flames, to burn with her.

She rose up on one knee and opened her eyes, a fresh trickle of arousal dampening her sex and dripping onto her thighs as she watched him watching her. She guided him to her opening, lowering herself down slightly, so as to not quite breach her hole. She was slick, so slick, and she rubbed the head of his cock against her slit to spread her wetness, and they moaned together. She teased her clit once, twice, with his tip, the unbearable need and pressure threatening to break her to pieces. She drew a breath, steadied her gaze on his, and lowered herself down his rigid, throbbing cock in one desperate motion, 

“Dany!” Jon screamed quietly, his eyes squeezing shut with effort, as his body threatened to betray him; he was about to come before he even started. Dany was rocking atop him, he was buried deep inside her, and her hips were rolling - shallow thrusts that teased and tortured. Jon watched her fuck herself on his cock, her cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Her breasts bobbed and swayed in front of him, and he leaned up slightly to pull one hard nipple into his mouth. Dany moaned loudly at his caress, encouraging him, bringing one hand to tangle in his curls and hold his mouth against her breast. He sucked and nibbled, tasting the sweet, burnt vanilla flavor of her tits. She was riding him hard now, trembling with effort. He was enveloped by her, the scent of her cunt, the taste of her breast, the sound of flesh against flesh. They were alone in the world now: only them, only this.

Jon released her breast with a pop, a trail of saliva webbing between her nipple and his mouth, and he watched her face as he reached between where they joined, finding her clit and rubbing the tight, swollen nub with his thumb. The Queen’s eyes flew open, her mouth slack and open and silent, her face twisting and tightening as the pressure on her clit increased. Jon felt her cunt flutter and squeeze around him, and he thrust up, spearing into her and he felt the coiling of his lower back, the need for release building, the fire burning where two bodies met. 

Jon was rubbing her clit hard, harder than it ever had been rubbed, even by her own hand, and he was thrusting up as she rode him. Dany had never felt so full. She was hot, so hot, her flesh felt as though it was searing with heat, her toes curling underneath her. He was not gentle, no, for all his calm, stoic demeanor she now found the wolf that lurked within. The pressure began in her belly, she felt her womb quicken and clamp from the top, every muscle in her body tight and ready for release. He kept rubbing her clit and she thought she might explode if she didn’t come soon, and suddenly he was at her ear, chanting.

“My queen, my queen….” he moaned softly as he fucked her hard. 

Everything went white; Dany broke with a scream as Jon jerked and thrust into her. She felt her walls clamp down and a gush of wetness between them, then Jon’s head fell back and he howled - her Wolf King howled - as he spilled himself inside her - their warm, sticky cum mingling, the sound of wet flesh slapping a lustful, pure cadence as they rode out their pleasure. 

Jon stilled as he slowly came down, panting, slick with sweat and cum, and Dany laid forward, blanketing him with her warm, small body. They nipped and kissed and caressed as they recovered, allowing their breath to return to normal, their skin to cool.

Dany turned her head toward Jon’s, raising an eyebrow as she studied his face. 

 

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, concerned, yet flirtatious.

“Only in the best way,” Jon replied, pulling her closer, placing a tender kiss to her nose. 

He held her there for a while, wanting to keep her with him, not wanting to let her go, not wanting to return to the nihilistic reality that brought them together just as it threatened to tear them apart.


End file.
